Dhaka 2

It is probably my own problem because living in Dhaka city alone is very stress.

The stress originated from too many nothing-better-to-do people staring at you. And too many people doing too little things or even nothing gets done.

We left the hotel at 11am, and back in hotel for dinner at 630pm. There were bloody >6 hours and actually the most productive period was that one hour in 2-3pm. We spent most of our time talking, stuck in the traffic and even more waiting for something (to happen). We even didn't have time for lunch. (?!?!)

Even during that hour when I am fully focus on my job, at least 5 people were surrounding me in that room, and a lot of people moving in and out that room. For those staying, they were either blocking my way while chit chatting, or they were not blocking my way chit chatting.

For those neither, they were blocking my way when they stared at me doing the job. They will stick out their bloody head want to see it (and block my view), or they will stick out their bloody hand to touch it (and mess up my calibration). They certainly placed their curiosity higher priority than for me to get the job done.

The best part was, I asked for a scissors they gave me a plier; I asked for a pen knife they gave me a used surgery blade without handle (I dunno what the blade cut before!! heart? brain? HIV tissue? Hep B+ liver?). And they all stared at me using 2 fingers holding the 1 inch surgery blade to cut open the tape seal on the boxes.

Now is 930pm local time, the hon and siren are simply unbearable.

I miss home already.